Dae'mon: A Twisted Soul
by MirroredShalott
Summary: Devias knew what lay at the heart of this world better than most; that is until he found himself stranded in the wilderness with a siren of the Horde. Language, violence: rating subject to change. R
1. Lucky 7

**Author's Note: **A casual side-project I've been working on in my spare time. From some sort of geeky, psycho-analytical perspective I'm enthralled with the division between the Horde and the Alliance in Warcraft which extends into fierce divisions among its players (which of course is the desired effect, especially in an MMORPG, but never-the-less) and the story-driven reasons why it exists. I confess I'm not very knowledgeable in the Warcraft lore but I've done my research for this project and wanted to write a story that focused upon these section divisions. Plus there's the added bonus that WoW fanfiction requires you to create OCs the large majority of the time so I could create and explore two characters written exclusively for this purpose. Seeing as I play Horde on WoW I may come off as a bit biased later on in the story but I'm trying my best to be as objective as possible.

The two characters introduced in this chapter belong to me, but their world is Blizzard's.

**Rating subject to change (from T to M) as story develops! **

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Chapter 1

_Lucky 7_

The Ghostlands existed as a world that howled and screamed in hellish voices. Overtaken by the Dead Scar the lands were a glimpse into a veritable underworld that rendered the forests of Duskwood pleasant by comparison. Undead skeletons with rotting flesh still hanging from their bodies and demonic cannibalistic ravagers prowled behind every twisted tree and outcrop. The gigantic spiders caught more than bugs in their webs and the screams of the poor souls who failed to rip themselves free of the sticky cocoons could be heard echoing ever so clearly off every scraggly rock and pile of debris. Spirits haunted the ruins of once lively towns the horrors of the Scourge denying them the luxury of crossing over. In short the Ghostlands were death.

Every hair on his body stood on end as he crept through the never-ending darkness and mist. This place sent rare chills up and down his spine a prospect he had laughed at when gathering information about the territory. Yet the stories were true; this place reeked of death. The air crackled with spite, dark magick hanging heavily in the air like poison. It stung his eyes and pricked his uncovered skin. Needles, hanging everywhere. If he could have taken a ship or swum along the shoreline until he reached the border of Eversong Woods he would have, but in these times that would have been an even more dangerous route. Sea monsters and marauders seemed more commonplace than schools of fish and for members of species not accustomed to underwater combat it was a last resort. Even large ships feared setting out to sea; many had begun transforming their wooden craft into low-flying zeppelins to avoid disrupting deep ocean waters. No, he would take the Ghostlands over the sea any day.

Devias had paid a decent sum for a warlock to open a portal to the Night Elf scouting post on Shalandris Isle. It was the closest Alliance holding to Eversong Woods and virtually cut off from Alli territories. When he had arrived through the portal the Night Elves stationed at the post had given him some smiles and polite greetings, but they were fixated body and soul upon the Ghostlands. Out of horror or fascination, Devias could not tell, but he had a feeling the Night Elves were comparing these woods to those of Ashenvale; it a look into the future if the Horde had their way. He pitied the Night Elves stationed at the Isle; how anyone could live in such a place, Devias did not know, yet it served its purpose as a place to prepare the newly recruited Once-Elves for the twisted workings of Azeroth. However, Devias was not here to train, he held no interest in the poorly skilled Once-Elves whose bodies he passed every so often. He was here on business, and for a human to venture alone this deep into Horde territory this business had better pay off.

Devias was a mercenary rogue but he worked strictly amongst the Alliance. He had been working the circuit as far back as he could remember and by his late teens when others would have just started going off to war Devias had already made a name for himself. The price of his services was high but he was worth every copper piece. With the ceasefire between the Alliance and the Horde eroding to the point where all of Azeroth threatened to wage all out war the market for experts in Devias' field boomed. In the past few years Devias had become absolutely formidable, even to his own people. Honing his skills and storing up gold had allowed him to travel into the far reaches of Azeroth returning bearing heads along with rare equipment, weapons, and loot. Standing a little over six feet tall he was a giant of a man, his strong frame enhanced by the leather clothing and armor he wore. Many often wondered how a person such as he could so easily disappear without a trace, but Devias never shared his secrets lest he one day be outmatched by them.

A sudden clearing in the gnarled trees made him snap back into reality; he had come upon the river that separated the Ghostlands and Eversong Woods. The other side of the bank did not appear to be much different from his field of view, but that was to be expected he mused. Horde did not fancy beautiful things, it only went without saying that they would prefer to live in twisted places. The river was not very wide but he could not leap across it on his own and Devias wanted to avoid making as much noise as possible. Devias looked around, quickly finding a long, dead branch lying on the forest floor. He picked it up and tested its strength; it was very dry but durable enough for the task at hand. Taking a few steps back from the river's edge he gripped the branch with both hands and held it straight out in front of him. Bursting into a sprint he drove one end of the branch deep into the soft, moist ground beneath him and catapulted himself up and over the river landing deftly on the other side. Devias brushed himself off and turned, eyeing the now vertical branch with satisfaction.

He was surprised by the immediate difference in the atmosphere as compared to the other side of the river; the reason for the darkness of the trees on this side was due to the element of fire. Soot hung heavy in the air, the smell of burned wood filling his nostrils as he breathed. Ashes stirred at the slightest gust of wind and he was shocked how he could have missed such sights and smells in those few feet. The hairs on the back of his neck stood straight, the magick in the air was even thicker than in the Ghostlands. There must be some sort of barrier in place near here, but in all his travels Devias could not remember one as strong or anything capable of creating something like this. Curiosity now raised Devias quickly ascended a barrier of rocks as the land began to rise upwards. The magick energy pounding through his body grew stronger with every step and leap up the rocks, _what was it? What was it?_ As he leapt up the last few feet and glanced skywards he faltered for a second, gasping in surprise.

In front of him stood an absolutely gigantic rune stone, the largest he had ever seen. It rose up and out of the trees, high up into the sky, at least a few hundred feet tall. The jet black face of the stone had been polished down completely making the surface appear to have been made out of glass. Upon its face glowed a deep blue symbol and with every pulse of light he felt the magick in the air vibrate as a heartbeat would. How anyone could erect such a structure let alone infuse it with that much power Devias could not comprehend. Was this the power of the Once-Elves? He had heard countless stories of their racial addiction to mana; did that in some way empower them with the ability to create such a thing as this? Devias couldn't remember the last time he was this awe-struck by anything.

_CLANG!_

As soon as he heard the clash of metal Devias was a ghost. Leaping up high onto a tree branch he looked around for the source of the noise and his gaze soon fell upon an interesting scene unfolding in front of him. Battling at the base of the gigantic rune stone were two figures, one of a giant forest tree elemental and the other a slim, nimble female Once-Elf. Devias could not make out any details from his vantage point but he could tell that the battle had been going on for quite some time, both parties bearing wounds and sagging from fatigue. The Once-Elf wielded a polearm which she was using to block and occasionally parry the elementals attacks as it swung out at her with its heavy wood fists. The battle was enchanting to observe, the Once-Elf's fluid motions as she dodged and weaved around the elemental swinging her polearm expertly as she went, and the brutish movements of the living tree. As Devias watched this battle progress he noticed something odd; the Once-Elf was barely attacking the elemental. With her level of skill and dexterity she should have ended this battle a long time ago. This caused great confusion in Devias, why would she hold back against an enemy who wished mortal harm upon her?

Suddenly the elemental struck out catching the Once-Elf female square in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her. She fell back harshly, hitting the barren floor with a thump as the elemental stood over her. Devias watched, unmoving, as the elemental raised its right fist high in the air ready to bring it down for the final strike. The Once-Elf shouted something Devias could not understand, but whatever it was the elemental paid no heed and its fist plummeted towards earth. In the blink of an eye the Once-Elf barely rolled out of the path of the fist and as the elemental lodged itself in the ground the Once-Elf cried out and forcefully thrust her polearm up and through the creature's head. The elemental grunted and swayed for a few moments before the Once-Elf quickly withdrew the weapon and the elemental crashed to the ground, dead. The Once-Elf was panting, her shoulders heaving as she fell to her knees beside the fallen elemental, sheathing her polearm across her back as the creature began to fade away its body being reverted back into magick energy. Devias jumped down from the tree branch and crept closer to get a better look at the Once-Elf, careful not to make a sound. Once he was closer Devias studied her weapon… and paused.

He smiled in glee as he recognized the weapon she was wielding; he had seen it before and its unique design had been etched into his memory. The Once-Elf wielded a Blood Tempered Ranseur.

_She's a Blood Knight._

This was indeed his lucky day; his gamble had paid off after all. Ever since the Once-Elves - or Blood Elves as they called themselves - had joined forces with the Horde there was a large outcry for "specimens" of the race from both the Alliance military and from the beds of the highest bidders. The military wanted to extract information and observe the anatomy and abilities of the Blood Elves brought to them and placed general bounties on the heads of any and all Blood Elves. The wealthy, their pockets often lined with spoils of war, used the slave routes to fetch themselves their very own Blood Elf which was almost always used as a bed toy. Blood Elves were known for their racial beauty in both men and women alike and were worth their weight in gold. All of this was well and good for business but as per his nature Devias wanted to hit the jackpot and here it was, kneeling right in front of him. Blood Knights were a constant thorn in the Alliance's side and they were extremely difficult to capture. Tracking down one in the open lands of Azeroth would be a long and tedious task but Devias had theorized that the closer to Silvermoon City he was able to get the more likely he was to encounter and capture a Blood Knight. They wouldn't expect a lone member of the Alliance in Eversong Woods, an area basically cut off from the rest of Azeroth by the Plaguelands. When in a familiar setting one tends to let their guard down, a behavior Devias had been counting on. Yet he had not only run into one so soon but he had stumbled upon a female Blood Knight and that alone would bring him great wealth.

Devias began to finger the weapons strapped around his waist, deciding the best course of action. For a moment his hand wandered upwards and fell upon the hilt of the blade sheathed across his back. He paused, remembering what he had seen earlier and the Once-Elf's current condition, and decided it was not necessary to use that particular blade. Settling on a pair of daggers and poison needles he eyed his prey like a hawk. A voice fell upon his ears and he paused for a moment as he heard the Once-Elf speak. He could not understand what she was saying, but he knew the language was not Orcish; it was too beautiful for Orcish. Thalassian possibly? His jaw dropped slightly as he listened to her speak, it was simply beautiful, as if hearing a siren sing.

_Snap!_

"Throm-Ka!" the Once-Elf cried out in Orcish as she brandished her weapon, looking around, searching for the source of the noise. Devias cursed his carelessness for letting his mind wander from the task at hand. His foot had slipped while listening to her speak and he had inadvertently snapped a twig in half. _You damn fool!_ He cursed himself over and over as he leapt upon the Once-Elf not giving her a chance to escape.

His daggers clashed with her polearm as he descended down upon her, their eyes locking. In typical rogue fashion Devias' face was masked but from his build and eye color it was clear he was not of elven descent. Devias saw her eyes narrow and glow a deeper shade of luminescent green as she recognized him as Alliance.

"Dae'mon!" she spat at him, suddenly thrusting forward against his blades and forcing him backwards. Devias stepped nimbly, never loosing his footing while she stumbled in her fatigue, chest heaving up and down rapidly. It was now that Devias had his first chance to get a clear look at the face of his adversary and he swore his heart skipped a beat.

He had seen many a Blood Elf before and had often wondered what a generally beautiful race would consider "gorgeous" by their standards. Devias believed that he now gazed upon a Blood Elf who would fall under that category. She was glorious, there was no other word befitting her description. Despite her wounds and fatigue the Blood Knight simply glowed with spirit, power, and that glorious face which caused Devias to pause. Her hair matched the beauty of her face, a cascade of fiery red that shimmered as it caught every ray of light. Devias smiled, this Once-Elf would be his greatest prize to date, one that would make him a very rich man. Adrenaline rushed through his body at the prospect of his future the fantasies sealing the Once-Elf's fate as Devias became fully determined that he would have her.

"It certainly is my lucky day." Devias said under his breath. Still smiling he suddenly threw two poison needles in her direction, the Blood Knight attempted to leap out of the way but Devias expected that and had thrown a third one unbeknownst to her. It caught the Blood Knight in the neck and she let out a startled gasp as she clutched the needle, falling to the ground with a thud and immediately passing out.

He had to move fast, Devias did not know if anyone else was in the area and had overheard the fighting that had taken place. His prey was incapacitated and would be for a few hours but those would fly by in his search for a suitable place to camp where they wouldn't be spotted by her own kind or by the monstrosities that were so commonplace in Azeroth. Devias looked down at the Once-Elf; she looked beaten but not pitiful, her aura still holding that same spirit he had seen earlier. He smiled to himself; this should prove to be one interesting journey back home.

The Ranseur would be a problem, however. The polearms were not only soul bound but imbued with powerful magick on account of the materials they were made from. He couldn't leave the weapon behind; it was definite proof of her standing as a Blood Knight and was too valuable to leave lying out in the open. _Ha, once a thief always a thief. _The Once-Elf was still clutching the weapon tightly in her hands; Devias reached down and released her grip on the weapon and then, steadying himself, he grasped the weapon firmly.

Devias grunted in pain as bolts of magick shot through his entire body. Working as fast as he could, Devias turned the Once-Elf on her stomach and tightly sheathed the Ranseur, releasing his grasp as soon as he had done so. Devias' head reeled from the effects of the magick and he took a potion out of his pocket and drunk a mouthful to relieve the pain. In a few moments he felt much better and stood up, hoisting the Once-Elf unceremoniously over his shoulder.

In seconds the rogue and his captive had disappeared without a trace.

* * *

**Orcish Translations:**

Throm-Ka - "Well met" (A greeting, used in this chapter in the same fashion as shouting "Hello?" to address someone you cannot see)

Dae'mon - "Twisted soul" (If you didn't discern from the title)


	2. L'Via L'Viaquez

**Author's Note:** I stole the title of this chapter from the song of the same name by The Mars Volta. They're an amazing band and the song is indescribable with its mind-blowing guitar riffs and smooth Latin tunes. You should go buy it, but don't watch the music video because it'll make you feel like you're tripping on something insane... I'm rambling again, back to the show.

I continue to own Devias and the Once-Elf, everything else is owned by Blizzard. Insanely rich Blizzard...

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Chapter 2

_L'Via L'Viaquez_

Dark clouds had formed over Eversong Woods and before long it had begun to rain steadily. Devias thanked the Holy Light for Eversong's almost mountainous terrain that created many rocky cliff faces. He had found a small cave tucked away high up on one such cliff located next to a waterfall. Boulders were a main feature of this particular cliff face and did an expert job of hiding the cave's entrance. He had found it by tracking a lynx to this spot and upon finding the beast inside Devias had killed it within a matter of seconds. Deciding it was safe to build a small fire Devias had cooked some of the lynx's flesh and was now chewing on a particularly tender piece as he sat near the cave's entrance listening to the sound of the rain outside.

Devias had taken off his mask letting the cool evening air gently caress his face. This trip had been a roaring success so far and he deserved some sort of reward for his work. He sighed and leaned back against the rock wall, the pitter patter of the rain sung to him, willing him to sleep and he drifted as the meat melted in his mouth. All his anxiety melted away with it replaced by simple satisfaction. It was times like these that made him truly happy…

His serenity was interrupted by a soft moan coming from farther back in the cave. Devias turned to see his captive stir, the chains binding her wrists behind her back clinking as she struggled against them and attempted to sit up.

"Terro ni A?" she asked quietly, Thalassian again. Devias swallowed the last bit of meat still left in his hand and retied his mask so the Once-Elf could not see his face. He moved swiftly across the cave and knelt over his prisoner, roughly rolling her over onto her back and holding a dagger against her throat. She stared wide-eyed up at him as she began to recognize him.

"Dae'mon…" she growled, her eyes narrowing. Devias smirked underneath his mask, she felt rebellious did she? His dagger flashed and he made a slim, long gash in her left cheek with the edge of his blade causing the Once-Elf to gasp in surprise. The dagger returned to its previous position against her throat.

"Dabu?" Devias attempted to convey his meaning through body language and the broken Orcish that he had learned in his travels. He had run a handful of slave routes before and collected bounties for the live capture of Horde members but Devias never had to engage in conversation with his captives or use more than a few short commands and actions to communicate when needed. Devias assumed that this venture would be the same as the others.

"Swobu…" the Once-Elf submitted, realizing her predicament as a drop of blood trailed down her cheek, "…though from now on it would probably be much easier to drop the Orcish."

Devias' eyes widened in surprise.

"Where did you learn Common?" he asked.

"From my parents, who learned it from a goblin in Ratchet." The Once-Elf replied, "It helps to know a language of the Alliance, especially in situations like this one." Her eyes kept darting back to the blade at her neck as she spoke. Devias' eyes narrowed, grabbing her face with his left hand and forcing her to focus on his eyes and not the blade.

"Good, it'll make things a lot easier for both of us." He said in a dominant tone. "First things first, tell me your name."

She smirked at him involuntarily; Devias slammed her head back against the stone floor, his eyes burning with a sick glee as he watched her writhe beneath him. Blood thundered through his veins and he suppressed the surprising urge to burst out into laughter. _Strange, this usually doesn't feel so delicious._ The Once-Elf hung limp as she recovered from the blow the pounding in her head making it almost impossible for her to think, but she heard her captor clearly as he continued to pry into her.

"You will tell me your name, your full name, or I shall give you one." He leaned in closer, their bodies pressing tightly together. "And I promise you it will not be a desirable one."

"L'Via," she responded weakly, her mind too scrambled to protest, "L'Via Dawnstrider." Devias smiled beneath his mask; his free hand absentmindedly stroking her radiant hair.

"Good girl." He purred, the sensation sending a delightful chill through him. _L'Via… what a delightful name. _"I am Devias, but you shall refer to me as either 'master' or 'sir'." He ordered, again trying to solidify in her mind exactly who held all the cards in the current situation. "Understood?" L'Via raised her head to look him square in the eye and nodded. _Good_, onto the next order of business then.

"I have very specific rules when I go on these runs, rules I am going to explain to you once and you will obey them without question, do you understand?" L'Via nodded again, and yet there was still defiance burning in her eyes; that was going to be an issue if it kept up. Devias sighed and backhanded her across the face, hard enough to entice a yelp of pain from her but not enough to mar her valuable features. "Rule number one: you _are forbidden _to glare at me." He heard her mutter something in Orcish; unfortunately for L'Via he had understood what she'd called him. Devias brought his hand down harder this time, L'Via crying out as her cheek stung.

"You're making this much more difficult than it needs to be." He said watching a few tears leak out of the corners of her eyes. "You are _my_ prisoner now and will live by _my_ rules whether or not I have to beat them into you. This entire trip will be easier on both of us if you'd simply behave. Since this is your first day after all I do not expect you to submit immediately, but it will happen and it will happen soon." L'Via avoided his gaze focusing her burning eyes upon the rock walls instead.

"What do you want?" she asked. His answer was simple.

"Gold." Her eyes widened and she looked back up at him.

"You're a slave runner?"

"Only when the money's good."

"So, you're going to sell me as… as someone's plaything?" she was frightened now, almost pitiful.

"I'll undoubtedly make the highest profit by selling you on that market, yes." Devias said with his voice monotone; his was not the business of morality and he felt no guilt at seeing a Horde look so pitiful by his own hand.

"**NO!**"

He was genuinely shocked at what happened next. Within seconds the pitiful expression had faded from her face and was replaced with one Devias could only describe as maniacal. She lashed out at him with as much force as she could muster, kicking and biting him as hard as she could. Devias was simply stunned for a few moments wondering just what it was that had made her go into such a frenzy. He had no trouble forcing her back down to the floor; after all her hands were chained behind her back rendering them useless as she struggled. Raising his fist he brought it down hard upon her head, L'Via's eyes rolled backwards and she shuddered from the force of the blow before passed out on the hard floor. Devias released her and sat back, a quizzical look on his face as he studied the unconscious Blood Knight.

Was she that afraid of being someone's slave? Possibly, but Blood Knights were known for their courage and despite his limited interaction with her Devias doubted that the Once El-… _L'Via_ would so openly display her fear. Prisoners had struggled before and he had expected this one to do the same but she had gone absolutely rabid. His curiosity was peaked now; he'd get an explanation out of her when she woke up.

It was late, Devias was tired, and his captive would most likely be out until morning. He decided to let the fire burn as the temperature had dropped with the arrival of rain and darkness and it would keep any wild animals away. Earlier Devias had constructed a makeshift bed of moss and soft leaves close to the entrance, preferring to avoid sleeping on hard rock whenever possible. He slightly loosened the mask still covering his face and lay down, eyes drifting shut as the rain once again sung him to sleep.

Due to years of training Devias was an extremely light sleeper his senses often more attune when he was asleep than awake especially when he was on a mission. Every unfamiliar or possibly hostile noise, however slight, caused him to wake and asses its danger. The majority of the time the things that went bump in the night held no threat to him and Devias would fall back to sleep immediately, forgetting the incident had ever happened.

* * *

He awoke with a start, surprised, unsheathing a dagger; mind racing as he determined what it was that had set him on edge. Had another lynx lived in this cave and returned, angry to find its den occupied? Had someone stumbled upon the cave? Damn him he should have put out that fire! The prisoner-

Devias paused for a moment then turned and gazed across the dying fire and down at her curled form. She was in the fetal position, sobbing, whispering something he could not make out. He exhaled slowly, returning his dagger to its sheath.

_It was only her._

He studied her for a few moments, watching as her body contracted slightly with each sob, his ears straining to hear the whisper constantly passing her lips; she was so tiny and vulnerable now, a stark contrast to her defiance earlier. A metaphor popped into Devias' mind: _she resembles a child_. A pang shot through his heart for a split second and he instantly suppressed it refusing to acknowledge that the Once-Elf had provoked such an emotion as pity from him. Yet he was inexplicably entranced unable to take his eyes off her. Devias crept closer to her careful not to disturb his captive; as he reached her side he discovered she was asleep and unaware that she was unveiling her emotions to him. This close Devias was able to make out what she was whispering.

"Anar'alah belore, vendel'o eranu." L'Via whispered over and over and over again.

_Damn, it's Thalassian._ Devias cursed under his breath, wishing he knew what she was saying. This elf… she was going to be a tough one to break and any bit of information he could use against her would help him gain full control. Thankfully this was not going to be an arduous journey; he'd take her back to Shalandris Isle and ride the ship all the way to Menethil Harbor (located on the western shore of the Wetlands) when it left for its bi-monthly supply run. The ship was scheduled to leave in three days and it had only taken him a few hours to reach Eversong. Backtracking would take longer with his captive in tow but Devias couldn't imagine the hike taking more than a day, and if worse came to worse he'd simply knock her out and carry her the rest of the way. Once they arrived in Menethil Harbor he'd commandeer two griffins to carry them to Ironforge. It was a straightforward route that didn't require much legwork (or dragging) plus once they were on the ship she would have absolutely no means of escape. Not that her chances were good while in Devias' hands, but he preferred absolutes.

_Ironforge…_

He wouldn't sell her in that city; the population consisted mostly of dwarves and gnomes who preferred partners resembling their own build. Stormwind was where he'd offer her up on the market and oh how the bids would come pouring into his lap. Humans, High Elves, Half-Elves, Night Elves, all of them kicking and screaming to get a piece of such a glorious Blood-Elf. She would be a trophy more than anything; it was all a game of domination over her tainted ancestry, all of the races he had named had some sort of bone to pick with her people.

That pang again.

Enough, he was letting his mind wander when he should be getting rest. Tearing his eyes away from L'Via Devias moved swiftly back to his makeshift bed and all but threw himself upon it, falling asleep the instant his head hit the foliage.

* * *

Dame Auriferous was constantly exhausted. Tranquillien was always in danger of being overrun - _again_ - wiping the ruins off the face of Azeroth. It was hell to be in a leadership position of this grim outpost; they were isolated, utterly surrounded by enemies, and resources were always in short supply. Scourge attacks were unending their numbers forever pouring out of Deatholme not to mention the trolls, berserk elementals, hostile spiritual apparitions and now…

_Fucking Nelfs. _

The Nelf infestation had not been a main concern at first as their numbers were few and Auriferous had believed that they would be picked off fairly quickly by the threats generated from Deatholme. When this did not occur she sent more requests to Silvermoon for reinforcements and in response simply received… new recruits. _Always with the new recruits!_ She understood that the higher powers wanted the recruits to train and become stronger in territories closer to home before being sent off to Undercity and the world beyond, but they were ill-equipped and unprepared to begin taking out members of the Alliance. For months now the only action against the Night Elves that she had taken was to simply observe their movements, but Auriferous was through waiting. Earlier today she had received a report from one of her scouts that the forces on Shalandris Isle had opened a portal. What location the portal lead to was unknown but the fact that they were now able to instantly transport and communicate with the main Alliance forces, albeit to a small degree, was nevertheless unsettling. Auriferous needed to act fast and wipe the Nelfs from the Ghostlands.

"Do the Night Elf forces have a significant weakness that we could exploit?" she asked her three companions that were huddled together in her makeshift, run-down headquarters. No immediate response on the matter was forthcoming; instead she heard a low voice mumble a phrase in Gutterspeak.

"Maltendis watch your mouth!" High Executor Mavren scolded his Forsaken companion, a common occurrence as the Deathstalker was infamous for his lewd behavior and attempted to flirt with every female Blood Elf that passed through Tranquillien. Out of all the women he lavished his attentions upon Advisor Valwyn undoubtedly received the brute of them. Maltendis shifted closer to Valwyn giving her a suggestive smile - well, as suggestive as he could get with an unhinged jaw - and winked at her.

"I don't care much about studying the Night Elves, I've got two magical orbs right here that require my full attention." Maltendis continued to move closer to Valwyn as he spoke. Valwyn's eyes darkened and she glared daggers at him causing Maltendis to pause in his advance. The usually composed Advisor dropped all pretense of formality when addressing the Deathstalker.

"Lay one bony finger upon my chest Maltendis and I'll slice off those shriveled up testicles of yours and make you watch as I feed them to a lynx!"

At this comment, coupled with her exhaustion and frustration, Auriferous snapped.

"**Advisor Valwyn and Deathstalker Maltendis if the two of you are unable to at least act maturely during a war council then I swear upon the Sin'dorei I will have your titles revoked and send you back to your respective capital cities in disgrace!**" she roared at the pair. Mana sparked and crackled in the atmosphere surrounding Auriferous electrifying her hair so that it began to stand on end. Auriferous' eyes iced over with malice and there was no question as to her intent. She was a dreadful sight and the disorderly pair shrunk back terrified of this new commander; the subordinates lowered their heads to their master conveying submission. Her point clearly made the Dame calmed herself and reeled her powers back in.

"_Now_," she said with a sigh, "the Night Elves, they have a rather large ship moored at the island correct?"

"Yes," Mavren cut in averting Auriferous' attention away from the cowering pair of offenders, "from our observations it is the only way they can retreat back into Alliance territory without having to brave the Plaguelands." She nodded and turned away from Mavren, an idea already culminating in her mind. If she knew there was one truth in this world it was that the Ghostlands did not have much to offer in the way of sustenance. Most of the "living" things were infected, poisonous, attacked on sight, or basically walking corpses hardly fit to live off of. The advantage the citizens of Tranquillien had was the village's close proximity to Silvermoon and this was a shadowy representation of familiar territory while the Night Elves had no such advantages. They were far from home and ignorant of how to survive in the Ghostlands of course they would rely heavily on imported supplies, and even if they were able to determine which creatures were edible and which meant death the meat the beasts supplied was indigestible without seasoning of some kind or another. The Nelfs probably looked forward to the arrival of new supplies as children gaze upon a dessert tray.

Considering there was one ship that meant that all the enemy camps held that one weakness: reliance and dependence on a single, easily destructible unit.

"When does it go on supply runs?"

"From our observations it appears to run on a bi-monthly schedule. Once every two months."

"When would you estimate the next run in scheduled?"

"Within the next few days."

"Then we have no time to loose." Auriferous was smiling as she faced her comrades, "We shall attack tonight before they have a chance to set sail." The understanding was immediate and unanimous; Auriferous could see it on their faces. Deathstalker Maltendis raised his hand in slight protest.

"Wouldn't it be wiser to wait until the moment the ship returns from its supply run? It would allow for at least three months before the Alliance began to miss it."

"It does not matter when the Alliance learns of the ships destruction whether it be tomorrow or in a year. They knew the risk of sending small scouting units into the heart of enemy territory and they would be fools to attack us directly in retaliation what with our close proximity to Silvermoon and the strong Horde forces stationed there. This will simply serve as a warning should they attempt to send more scouts in the future.

"Taking back Shalandris will be crucial to flushing out all the Night Elf forces stationed in the Ghostlands. If we sit and wait they'll begin to make their way to the island in anticipation of fresh supplies," Auriferous smiled wickedly; "it'll be lambs to the slaughter." Advisor Valwyn stood forward and saluted Dame Auriferous.

"Your orders my lady?"

"Have a mounted unit contact Captain Helios at the Farstrider Enclave and tell him that I request five of his most able-bodied soldiers to report to Tranquillien immediately. He will undoubtedly object to the orders so have the messenger inform him that I am calling in his debt. In the meantime gather every rogue in the immediate vicinity and bring them before the High Executor and myself. We want to make sure the Night Elves never see us coming."

"And what exactly are we to do once we reach Shalandris Isle?" Valwyn knew, it was obvious, but Auriferous had to vocally give the order before it could be carried out.

"Burn it. Burn it to the ground."

* * *

**Orcish Translation Notes: **

Dabu - "I obey"

Swobu - "As you command"

**Thalassian Translation Notes:**

Terro ni A - "Where am I?" (Unoficial translation, used the in-game language parser algorithm)

Anar'alah belore, vendel'o eranu - "By the light of the sun, help me forget"


	3. Glimpse of a Dae'mon

**Author's Note:** I now also remember why I hate writing fan fiction: the agony of checking to see if you have any reviews or hits! The worry over whether or not anyone will even give a damn about what you're writing! Oh the melodrama! Seriously though if you are reading this I'm extremely curious to know your thoughts about this fanfic o' mine.

Also, because 99% of you are probably unfamiliar with a large variety of martial arts weapons I suggest you google "steel tiger karambit" before reading this chapter so you know what one looks like. The weapon makes a brief appearance in this chapter but I'll be having much, MUCH more fun with it as our story continues.

Devias, L'Via, and all their faults and charms belong to me. Blizzard continues to own Warcraft the-

**Advanced warning! This chapter involves heavy use of the Thalassian and Orcish languages thus the translation notes at the end are much more extensive then in previous chapters.**

* * *

Chapter 3

_Glimpse of a Dae'mon_

L'Via's eyes slowly fluttered open as rays of light willed her awake and after a few moments they lazily focused on an unfamiliar stone wall. The ground was hard beneath her and she shivered slightly as cool morning air caressed her skin.

_Where am I?_

She attempted to bring a hand to her face and found herself unable to do so. Confused she fought against a restraint and heard the clink of metal; her hands were chained behind her back. Immediately the events of the previous evening rushed back to her and she sat up in shock soon regretting the move as her head pounded. A concentrated throbbing on one particular spot on the back of her head informed L'Via that a sizeable lump had formed where that filthy human had smashed her against solid stone. As she inhaled a slight restriction around her neck brought the awareness of another restraint she had not noticed the evening before; it was a collar made of an unknown material (at least one she could not identify by feel alone). A collar, as if she were a pet!

_Human Dae'mon!_

L'Via looked about the cave hastily searching for the figure of her captor. She took note of the makeshift mat near the cave's entrance and the remains of a fire in the middle of the cave, but the man himself was nowhere to be found. The human had left her all alone in the cave.

Without thinking L'Via leapt up onto her feet and made a bolt for the cave's entrance leaping over the fire in her long gait. She smiled to herself; the human had forgotten to tie her feet; a mistake he would regret the moment he returned to find that his "prize" had vanished. It was only a few more steps and she'd be out in the open running for the nearest outpost and a rogue to get these bindings off of her. Just a few more feet and-

A knee that seemed to materialize out of thin air made sudden, hard contact with L'Via's stomach knocking the wind out of her. She crumpled to her knees immediately gasping and choking for air as her mind spun. What the hell just happened?

"I've got to hand it to you for trying but overall that was a seriously pathetic attempt." Strong arms lifted her up effortlessly and she was at a loss as the human carried her across the cave and dropped her unceremoniously in the same spot where she had passed out the night before. She looked up at him with hatred burning in her emerald eyes; their shade darkening. He was certainly larger than the average human male; if his skin was a purple tinge he would be able to pass as a short Night Elf. The abilities L'Via had observed earlier (including those moments just now) told her the human was a highly skilled rogue, the cloth mask he constantly wore over his face acting as further proof. Cloth covered his entire head hiding his hair underneath the folds; the only facial feature L'Via could see was his eyes. They were unusual, she noted, a bright crimson that she had never before seen in a human. A sharp slap to her face interrupted her thoughts.

"Remember what I said about glaring? Repeat the rule for me." The human insisted. L'Via cursed her helplessness as her cheek stung. This was disgusting and degrading but L'Via had no choice in the matter but to concede. She bit down on her tongue, resisting the strong urge to verbally retaliate, and tasted blood as she clawed at the chain bindings with her nails.

"Glaring is forbidden." L'Via nearly growled.

"Say it again, and this time show me proper respect." The human demanded. L'Via glanced up at him in confusion.

"What?" She grunted as the human shoved her backwards and she slammed into the hard floor the chains digging uncomfortably into her back.

"Glaring at you is forbidden, _master_." L'Via spat at him. Devias smirked beneath his mask as he looked down at the Once-Elf sprawled at his feet; it wasn't a perfect performance but it would do for now. Her chest was heaving furiously; _there must be some way to break these chains!_ L'Via closed her eyes and concentrated on the flow of mana through her body and called out to the Sunwell to grant upon her the power of Judgment. The divine hammer could shatter the chains in an instant and Ranseur or no she could take her adversary employing the use of her magick alone. What a fool this _human_ was to overlook what nearly constituted as half of her battlefield abilities. L'Via cast the spell and-

A terrible draining sensation racked her body and it felt as if she was suspended in mid-air as part of her life-force was devoured by an unknown force. After a few seconds the unknown third party released her and L'Via fell back down to Azeroth in a daze, gasping, and noticeably weaker. She heard the Dae'mon laughing through a sudden coughing fit that had taken hold of her.

"I would refrain from trying to cast any more spells if I were you." The Dae'mon said after her coughing had begun to die down.

"What… what was that?" L'Via barely groaned through her gritting teeth; her entire body was sore from head to toe and it was suddenly taking a lot of her strength just to stay awake.

"A little something I've used on previous excursions; magick users can be quite the handful if not properly sedated. You can tie them up but that rarely poses much of an obstacle for their abilities which obviously turns them into messy cargo. Fortunately for me I was able to save up enough gold to buy that lovely collar you're currently sporting." Devias informed her.

"It did seem a bit redundant…" L'Via muttered.

"Under ordinary circumstances, yes it would be, but this item is made out of an extremely rare enchanted cloth which… well it's almost a living thing when you think about it. That collar feeds on your mana and the more you try to use its power the bigger the feast you're providing the collar. Any spells you attempt to cast will be immediately blocked and absorbed by the starving accessory so I suggest you save your energy for the road ahead rather than failed escape attempts." L'Via lay sprawled on the floor as her head continued to reel; a brief flash of concern crossed Devias' face before vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. "Can you sit up?"

"I don't know… why do you care?"

"If my cargo is damaged I care very much now try to sit up." He ordered. She groaned but did her best to comply by rocking her body forward into a sitting position. Her head was still swimming but thankfully the sensation was fading quickly. L'Via's eyes drifted over the ground and focused upon some fruit and a few small pieces of roasted meat lying only a few feet away. Her stomach growled at the sight of the food and she was hit by a wave of hunger; it was one extreme sensation after another today. Devias followed her gaze,

"Ah yes." He reached out and grabbed the food bringing it within L'Via's reach – if her hands weren't chained behind her back that is. "I already ate so feel free to have all of it." He informed her. She looked from the food to Devias and back at the food.

"How am I supposed to eat without the use of my hands?" she asked. Devias took one of the fruits in his right hand and held it close to her mouth.

"Open up." L'Via gave him an incredulous look.

"You can't be serious! I'm not eating out of your hand like a dog!"

"You haven't earned the right to eat with your own hands and until you do I'll have to feed you myself."

"So I'm to be treated as an animal?"

"Until you prove to me that you can behave otherwise. Now eat! We've got to reach our destination by nightfall."

L'Via sighed in defeat and leaned forward so she could take a bit out of the juicy fruit. It wasn't a bad meal, quite good actually; L'Via probably would have enjoyed it if she didn't feel so humiliated. This human knew what he was doing she had to give him that much. He had done a good job stripping her of her dignity so far and L'Via had the feeling that this was only the beginning. He alternated between the fruit and meat, intermittingly allowing her a few sips of cold water. The meal was rejuvenating and she felt better with food in her stomach but her situation remained as grim as before. Unless she did something fast she was going to be a slave… a sex slave most likely… sold… as an object…

She bit down hard on her lip; she couldn't think about that, mustn't think about that! L'Via savagely beat back the tears that threatened to form in her eyes; above all she could not cry, could not show that kind of weakness in front of this Dae'mon. Blood dribbled off her chin…

"Cast aside whatever it is you're thinking about." L'Via looked up as Devias looked away; she was surprised to hear the slightest hint of concern in his voice. "Focus on the journey ahead instead, we have a lot of ground to cover." His back was to her and he was busy burying the remnants of the fire under the dirt of the cave floor. When this task was completed he moved towards his makeshift mattress near the entrance and L'Via noticed how bright it was outside.

"We're traveling during the day?" she mused but Devias had heard her and paused in his task of disposing of the pile of leaves and moss.

"Yes, we have to risk it."

"Why?" Devias was silent for a moment and then resumed his task before he spoke.

"The Ghostlands are hell during the day and I dare not find out what that place is like when night falls."

* * *

All things considered they were making good time.

There was a ring around L'Via's collar that Devias had tied some rope through to create a make-shift leash. She had nearly protested at this but held her tongue, a fact which Devias was very proud of, it meant she was learning quite fast and had enough intelligence to realize the best thing to do was to go along with him. Her Ranseur was slung across his back crossing his blade which added some more weight to his load but he doubted it would slow him down. L'Via was the main problem; her hands were still bound behind her back because, despite her earlier compliance, Devias was far from trusting she wouldn't attempt to strangle him if he bound her hands in front. While she had no trouble matching his pace obstacles that would normally be easy to traverse (such as small rock faces) were now nearly impossible; rough terrain in particular was hell for her.

They stopped to rest only once under the canopy of a rock outcropping near the gargantuan rune stone where L'Via had fought the elemental. The duo hadn't spoken up until that point, but Devias' curiosity was too strong to keep him silent.

"Is this edifice the work of the Once-Elves?" Devias gestured towards the rune stone as he spoke. L'Via paused for a moment to repress the urge to correct him: _we are Blood Elves, __**Blood Elves**_!

"Yes."

"Why create such a thing?"

"We had to. The rune stones hold back the Ghostlands."

"There are more of these?!" Devias turned towards her in surprise.

"Yes, we have three stationed along the river's border. Unfortunately they don't hold back the Scourge or the Scar…" L'Via trailed off into silence.

"How much blood courses through these stones?"

"As much as is needed, as much magick and mana as needed; we make sacrifices every day holding back the poison of the Ghostlands! Anar'alah belore they shall not fail us now." Her voice was hard.

"To my knowledge the Horde rules the Ghostlands; more specifically _your _race rules over that poisoned heap."

"No one rules the Ghostlands." Her voice was harder still. Devias was silent for a moment.

"And if they – the rune stones – do fail? What then?"

A pause…

"Thus anu shindu Sin'dorei anaria shorel'aran lo Azeroth da dal'dieb, fallah lo ishura selama ashal'anore. Fallah lo talah ashal nah, fallah lo ishura ronae."

L'Via inhaled sharply as Devias withdrew a dagger and sliced open her arm. The cut was shallow, but it had hurt and got the message across. He did not feel the need to command that she translate the phrase, the sorrow in her voice told him enough.

"Your fight yesterday against the elemental, was that some sort of sacrifice? Did the energy and mana used in that fight get somehow absorbed into the rune stone as fuel?" L'Via shook her head.

"No, it was nothing of the sort."

Hurt in her voice again. The same hurt as when she had talked in her sleep.

"Then what was it?"

"A request from an old friend…" L'Via said no more on the subject.

Blood trickled down her arm. Sin.

Her bindings – a necessity as Devias kept reminding himself – were becoming increasingly troublesome. Devias was forced to haul her over his shoulder and carry her down the cliff face he had ascended the day before which ate up more time than was acceptable. It was high noon by the time they were swimming across the river (Devias had to hold L'Via up to prevent her from drowning) and once he hauled her up onto the opposite bank he knew they couldn't keep traveling in this manner if they wanted to be out to Shalandris Isle by nightfall. The solution was undesirable, but it would give them a much needed speed increase.

"I'm going to carry you over my shoulder the rest of the way." L'Via started when she heard him.

"What?!"

"It's the best solution." And without further ado he took hold of L'Via and swung her casually over his left shoulder.

"This is beyond uncomfortable." her voice was strained and a bit muffled from her position. Devias grinned and tightened his grip around her waist.

"Bear with it."

After that L'Via was silent. Their pace instantly increased and Devias was soon gliding across the festering wastelands with relative ease; he had discretely marked out a trail the day before which he followed with intense focus. Devias shut out the Ghostlands and focused upon his markers; the needles were stabbing at him again and fel magick tempted him to stop and become as poisoned as the world beneath him. This place disgusted him beyond words and he felt hatred for the Once-Elves rear up in his mind. _They are Sirens the lot of them! No creatures of the Light could survive – live – in this underworld. So deceptively beautiful you'd question why they align themselves with the Horde but this place proves their wickedness! _For a moment he nearly threw her into the arms of the twisted world, almost threw his prize away in disgust but he held her fast and pushed those thoughts out of his mind. This place was toying with him. He hated it.

Nightfall was approaching as he neared the last of the markings when Devias suddenly came to a screeching halt. There was something different about the air here… a smell…

Devias sniffed the air.

_By the Light no!_

"What is it?" L'Via spoke her first words in hours but they fell upon deaf ears.

_No!_

Devias looked around. It was easy to locate a large, hollow tree; he rushed over and placed a considerably confused L'Via inside the opening and tied her leash around a solid-overhanging branch.

"What the-?" she began to protest before her voice was muffled by a strip of cloth he used as a makeshift gag and tied it around the back of her head.

"Don't move." He ordered and vanished without further explanation.

_That smell…_

Devias was now able to move freely without L'Via as a burden. He was a blur as he sped through the forest not even bothering to check for his markers now; that scent lead the way. That damning scent lead the way. When he reached the border where the trees lead out onto gray, rocky beaches he stopped and beheld the confirmation of his fear.

Shalandris was burning bright against the twilight.

_**No! **_

There was no hope for it at this point the entire island was engulfed in a blaze so strong Devias swore he could feel the heat from where he stood. The ship, his ticket home, was either destroyed or had set sail… it didn't matter. It was _gone_.

This was not the result of an accident. The shore laid out before him spoke to Devias and revealed that a large band of Horde was responsible for this act. There was no question that all the Night Elves who had been stationed on the isle were either dead or taken prisoner. His luck had run out. Devias was stranded in the wilderness with an entire city of his enemies to his north, the Plaguelands to the south, and a veritable circle of hell all around him.

_By the Light that has guided-_

Devias was cut short as he swung around and disarmed the creature who had attempted to stab him from behind. He didn't even bother using weapons on his enemy initially and instead swiftly broke both the creature's arms, slammed him to the ground, and pinned him down with a hand covering its mouth to prevent its screams from alerting any others that may be lurking in the increasing darkness. With his opponent writhing helpless beneath him Devias unsheathed his right karambit and held the curved blade against its throat.

"No'bu gul Kil lak'tuk mago thrakk. Dabu?" the creature understood his broken orders and slightly nodded his head in agreement. Devias removed his hand and was able to get his first good look at what race his attacker belonged to. It appeared to be a young, inexperienced male Once-Elf rogue whose glowing green eyes were filled with awe and utter terror as they stared up at him. _He's not even worth killing._

"Gi uruk o lok'tar kek ruk Horde?"

"Zug zug." The rogue confirmed the obvious.

"Grom ko ruk Night Elves?"

A wicked grin now appeared on the rogue's face; one to rival the karambit's own curved grin. Surprising…

"Ha thrakk'reva regas rath'is Nelfs! Thok zugas ag kagh nuk ka tar rega gesh kil'azi mog zuggossh thrakk! Thok zugas ag goth'a aaz dogg nuk ka moguna ag no'ku maza mog koshom! Ka tago no ruk'ka'ha! Zaga ogar kek mog tov'osh! Ka tago thok gezzno kek osh'Kava ag gar'mak Shalandris! Grom o moth'aga lok'tar! Kek ruk Horde!"

Devias sliced his throat open from ear to ear; another grin, though the one on the dead elf's face was ironically bloodier than the grin across his throat. He had only understood bits and pieces of what the Once-Elf had said but it had been enough to give Devias a clear picture of what had happened. No wonder the smell was so vile. _They used the bodies as tinder…_

That boy had been young (by his race's standards) but already so _damn wicked_. Now, after seeing this, Devias was determined now to see this journey through. Yes, it was a journey of selfishness and greed but if it would bring some reprieve to the slaughtered souls of Shalandris-

That damn pain! That fucking grief! Why did it hurt when he thought of L'Via's impending fate-

_L'Via!_

He flew back towards the hollow tree where he had left her. How could she have slipped his mind? The moment he realized that rogues of her alignment were slinking around in this area of the Ghostlands he should have rushed back to retrieve her!

When he reached the tree he froze and his crimson eyes lit up in unspeakable fury. Half of her leash was still dangling from the branch it was tied to.

She was gone.

* * *

**Thalassian translation notes:** as my phrases have become increasingly more complicated I've had to take more creative liberty with the language translations. I employ heavy use of the WoW in-game language parsers but I've begun to mix officially confirmed translations with my own. So, I'll start by translating the confirmed phrases and then move onto my much more complex creations.

Sin'dorei - "Children of the blood" or, basically, Blood Elves

Selama ashal'anore - "Justice for our people"

Sin - "blood"

Nah - "enemies"

Ronae - "peace"

Thus combined with the Thalassian language parser:

"Thus anu shindu Sin'dorei anaria shorel'aran lo Azeroth da dal'dieb, fallah lo ishura Selama ashal'anore. Fallah lo talah ashal nah, fallah lo ishura ronae."

Roughly translates to:

"Then the failing Sin'dorei speak farewell to Azeroth in disgrace, unable to attain justice for our people. Unable to defeat our enemies. Unable to attain peace."

**Orcish translation notes:** I had to take even MORE creative liberty here as there are far less officially translated phrases in Orcish compared to Thalassian. However, I'll once again start with the official phrases then move onto my own translations.

Lak'tuk - "suffering"

Lok'tar - "victory"

Like I said, MUCH less to work off of so I relied heavily on the Orcish language parser to help me out. These are all _very_ rough translations (and remember, Devias' Orcish is not the best):

No'bu gul Kil lak'tuk mago thrakk. Dabu? - "Shout and I'll cut your throat. Obey?"

Gi uruk o lok'tar kek ruk Horde? - "Is this a victory for the Horde?"

Grom ko ruk Night Elves? - "What of the Night Elves?"

And now the paragraph from hell (but it was fun):

Ha thrakk'reva regas rath'is Nelfs! Thok zugas ag kagh nuk ka tar rega gesh kil'azi mog zuggossh thrakk! Thok zugas ag goth'a aaz dogg nuk ka moguna ag no'ku maza mog koshom! Ka tago no ruk'ka'ha! Zaga ogar kek mog tov'osh! Ka tago thok gezzno kek osh'Kava ag gar'mak Shalandris! Grom o moth'aga lok'tar! Kek ruk Horde!

"We slaughtered those filthy Nelfs! They tried to run but we cut them down beneath our superior blades! They tried to escape via ship but we ripped it apart with our axes! We took no prisoners! Only death for our enemies! We used their bodies for firewood to burn Shalandris! What a glorious victory! For the Horde!"


	4. Detours

**Author's Note: **First off I'd like to thank those of you who posted reviews! I can't tell you how much I appreciate getting feedback! Oh, and **Mermur**, I know Devias is a douche bag, but he's _my_ douche bag.

Second I apologize for the delay in this chapter's release as, after much consideration, I had to re-construct the large majority of the storyline. My plans for this story had been pretty shaky from the beginning but now I've got a solid plotline down so the next few chapters are going to flow much easier. Also, I know this chapter is short, but fear not as the next installment is going to be absolutely gigantic!

And now for your usual disclaimers to prevent Blizzard from suing my ass except for the fact that I own Devias and L'Via so take that you corporate bastards!**  
**

* * *

Chapter 4

_Detours_

The Dae'mon had left L'Via's legs untied and she praised the Sunwell for his oversight.

As soon as he had vanished she had hauled herself out of the hollow tree and began looking around for anything that might help her escape her bonds. She had recognized the smell of burning wood and bodies as soon as Devias had and deduced from his actions and their location that Auriferous or one of the other local commanders must have attacked the Night Elf post on Shalandris; but right now that meant little to her. Her only priority at the moment was making a run for it.

L'Via's wrists were bound by chains which could not be cut through by anything of non-magick origins so she focused on looking for something that could slice through the rope attaching her to the tree.

Wait! The tree!

The fel magick that had transformed the Ghostlands into what they were today had some very unusual side effects on the once thriving foliage. While this tree had been dead for only a few years at most it had already undergone heavy fossilization to the point where parts of it could be considered solid rock; she scoured the side of the tree for any particularly jagged edges and was soon rewarded. L'Via leaned in and caught the cloth gag on the hook of a sharp piece of fossilized bark that was jutting a few inches out of the side of the tree. Within a minute she had sliced through the cloth and the gag fell to the forest floor.

As soon as her mouth was free she had to hold back the urge to scream for help; after all while some of her allies may be within hearing range considering the fact that mostly new recruits trained here they would most likely be too inexperienced to be of much help to her. Besides, if she screamed L'Via had no doubt Devias would hear her and in her current condition she would find herself back to square one in no time. If it wasn't for that damn collar –

Another sudden wave of dizziness washed over her, but this time it wasn't due to the collar. Indeed it was something much, much worse. She hadn't used her mana tap in over a day now and while that normally wouldn't be cause for huge concern her battle with the forest elemental had drained a decent portion of her mana. If L'Via didn't get rid of this collar within the next two days her health would begin to rapidly deteriorate until…

L'Via swung her head and gripped the piece of rope between her teeth and began to saw through it using the same jagged piece of bark that she had used before. The rope was thick and durable and her actions became more frantic as minutes began to pass by; she gnawed at the rope with her teeth hoping that would be of some use. After extraneous tugging and tearing and sawing the rope finally tore apart and she was off running through the dead wood as fast as her legs could carry her.

She recognized this area of the Ghostlands and rejoiced that she was within sprinting distance of Tranquillien. She knew she was leaving behind a fairly clear trail but L'Via could hold quite a gait and put as much distance between herself and the Dae'mon as possible. L'Via headed east towards the Scar; if she could make it to that landmark before Devias caught up with her she would be guaranteed escape.

A good hour had passed before her sensitive ears heard him coming to retrieve her. In true warrior fashion she did not panic, but simply put on an extra spurt and kept running.

Devias was faster.

All she needed was to reach the Scar then speed wouldn't matter.

He was still gaining on her.

She got out the first note of a distress call before something solid hit her in the back of the knee bringing her to a – literal – crashing halt.

The Dae'mon was upon her and he was absolutely _livid_.

"**In the name of the Light did you truly believe you could get away?**" he bent down and grabbed her ankles and dragged her towards him. "I must admit you are quite the clever little shrew and fast to boot but make no mistake when I say that you will _**never**_ escape my grasp!" He flipped her over onto her back so that she could look up at him. There was blood splattered all over his chest and part of his mask and his crimson eyes were on fire. L'Via could not suppress the small, triumphant smile that formed on her lips.

"Escape your grasp? What grasp? You seem to have lost complete control of the situation at this point. Your grasp? What a joke! It means nothing now! Where will you go? Where will you take me?"

"I will drag you body and soul across the Plaguelands if that's what it takes!"

"AND FOR WHAT?! Gold? You would become so driven at the prospect of gold?" Devias' eyes narrowed.

"It has become more than that..."

"Why? Because of the Night Elves?"

"Someone will pay for their slaughter!"

"Someone who played no part in it?"

"Your people played a part in it! The Horde played a part-"

"**Stop trying to justify your greed**!" L'Via interrupted with a roar and Devias whipped out his still bloody karambit and held it against her throat. She grinned at this, a wicked grin that reminded him of the grin that had crossed the Once Elf rogue he had slain earlier. "You don't give a damn about those Night Elves, you're livid because your one route out of hell has been destroyed and now there's nowhere to run to except another hell that may be an even worse circle than the one you're in now. Am I really worth all of that? Is the price upon my flesh so high that you would sell your soul to even taste the riches that await you if this unholy slave trade pans out?" The grin faded, "And you believe that the Orcs have uglier souls than you."

He knocked her out and immediately shoved her words to the furthest recesses of his mind.

But she was right, where would he go from here? _The Plaguelands, I have to face the Plaguelands…_

He had traveled through there only once and that was in the company of his old guild. They had spent as little time upon that unholy ground as possible completing their mission within one day and leaving before night fell upon the land. The trip had always stuck in Devias' mind and the needles of fel magick that he had felt there was indeed much worse than the Ghostlands. Even with his level of expertise to drag this Once Elf across that endless wasteland alone would be tantamount to a suicide mission. Could he make it?

Devias shook his head; what he needed to do was take this trip one step at a time and worry about obstacles as they appeared. Right now his biggest obstacle was finding a way out of the Ghostlands that was not guarded tooth and nail by Horde forces; even before that he had to make his way to the southern border. There was no time to waste; fresh adrenaline was pumping through his system so now was as good a time as any to get started. Devias once again picked up his prize, slung her over his shoulder, and headed south as darkness began to engulf the world around him.

* * *

L'Via awoke to find herself whirling through the night drenched Ghostlands slung over her captor's shoulder. She remained limp, making sure not to give him any indication that she had come to, and tried to formulate her next move.

She would see the Sin'dorei fall before she allowed him to drag her through the Plaguelands; beyond that she would watch the destruction of Azeroth itself before he sold her to some Alliance scum! Bound as she was this was still the Ghostlands and she had shed blood, sweat, and tears all over this dark soil during her training and initiation into the Blood Knights. L'Via had made her mark upon this land and become a part of it; furthermore she knew its secrets.

The Dae'mon would not cross the Scar this much she knew; if he feared the Ghostlands he would not dare tread upon the Scar. They were heading south towards the border on the western side of the Scar which gave out onto the sea which they could not traverse without a boat. There were only two passes through the southern mountains and both were on the eastern side of the Scar. The human would not cross the Scar or the ocean, he was stuck in between the two, and his destination lay south.

L'Via grinned from ear to ear; all things considered there was only one possible destination.

_Deatholme_.


	5. The Howling

**Author's Note: **This chapter was difficult to write as it's more of an in-between-the-action type chapter. It feels a little rushed at the end but I was sick of writer's block and just needed to get the damn thing done! Apologies all around for the wait but this is a side-project and r/l has been quite demanding.

**I don't own Warcraft, if I did I'd be out on my yacht right now or something. XD**

* * *

Chapter 5

_The Howling_

On the third night they found the Void.

At first Devias' foreboding about the Ghostlands at nightfall appeared to be, for the most part, incorrect. It hadn't been very long before the darkness seemed to encase him within its grasp and the air became heavy and thick; moonlight did not pierce through the darkness and soon enough the only source of light was the eerie, pale luminescent glow that emanated off of some of the trees.

_The glow must be the work of some natural magick. _

Even with limited visibility Devias was able to traverse the forest without much difficulty, guiding himself along utilizing his sense of touch rather than sight; every now and then he would pause near one of the luminescent trees to check his compass to make sure he was not wandering off course. After a while Devias decided that traveling at night through the Ghostlands was not much more difficult than traveling during the day; the needle-like sting of the fel magick in the air was a bit sharper, yes, and it was more difficult to breathe but it was nothing he couldn't handle.

_I got worked up for nothing…_

Once it had lulled him into a sense of safety and calm the land decided to strike.

Within an instant the air became tar and Devias nearly chocked to death on his inhale. Coughing and sputtering he froze as the world suddenly went icy cold and the needles scraped him raw with their poisoned magick tips; the pale glowing trees shifted their palette to a dark, sticky crimson and he felt an untold weight bearing down upon him. What he found to be utterly paralyzing – utterly terrifying – were the _screams_; constant, intense _screaming_. There had been screaming during the day but it was faint and one could tune it out but this… this was amplified to the point where it was impossible to hear anything else!

Devias couldn't say exactly _what_ was screaming because he had never heard anything like it before. As he became more exposed to the noise he noted that it was not simply screaming but also a mixture of crying, nails raking exposed flesh and bone, growling from the deep, chattering and gnashing of teeth, sardonic laughter, and the sound of unknown objects crashing and echoing off of each other in an empty room. It more than chilled him; the damn sound racked his body with vibrations with every wave; it shook him to the core unlike anything he had ever known and the more he tried to tune it out the harsher it became. _What is this?! What the fuck __**is**__ this?!_

And he was running for his life.

There was no escaping the sensations and most especially the _noise_. Devias was running for all he was worth stumbling blindly through the thick foliage now; he was tripping and falling over roots and rocks and things that, discerning from what he could feel, he would very much care to leave a mystery. The nightmare only escalated as the night grew deeper and his heart pounded louder and Devias swore he heard the snapping of twigs and branches all around him and felt dozens of eyes watching him and that _damnable noise just __**would not cease**_!

Then at one point, somewhere in that darkness where time did not exist, Devias felt hands clawing at his feet.

"Be gone from me!"

He took the only escape route and leapt up high into the trees in the hope that whatever hell spawns were after him could not reach him from that height. He did not stop climbing and leapt from tree to tree until he found one tall enough to surpass the forest's canopy and he emerged into dim blue moonlight. They were surrounded by leagues of gnarled dead branches cut only by the barely distinguishable outline of mountains to the south and two tall, desolate towers that pierced the sky in the east.

Thank the Light for whatever had grabbed at him before had not followed Devias up the trees though the racket was still pounding inside his head full force. Exhausted, confused, and honestly terrified he backed up against the trunk of the tree and settled down, swinging L'Via around so that he could clutch her back against his chest. He needed time to think, to calm himself down, and quite likely ride out the nightmarish voices until morning arrived and allowed him some reprieve.

"You can hear it, can't you?" Devias wasn't too shocked to hear L'Via speak; he hadn't hit her very hard after all.

"What the fuck is it?"

"It is the sound of the Scourge – the damned – crying out for your soul. More than that it is mixed in with the cries of their suffering; it's…" L'Via hesitated for a moment, at first unsure if she should speak further on the subject.

"It's _**what**_?!" He brought a hand up to cradle his forehead. "It pounds itself into every recess of my mind! Every inch of me is being consumed by this forsaken screaming! What in all of Azeroth has the power to do this to such an expansive land?!"

"It's not anything of Azeroth; you're hearing the cries of Hell. The Ghostlands stand on the borderline between this world and the next and in the dead of night the line gets so blurred one can hardly tell the difference. The story goes that the blacker your soul the more pronounced the visions of Hell and the louder the howling becomes; the damned are an impatient lot and will most likely want to drag you down to burn before schedule."

"Are you implying that I'm damned?" his grip on L'Via grew painfully tighter.

"You're in good company," she spoke through a wince, "it seems we're both destined to burn. It pounds in my head as well."

"How can anyone live here? How do you not get driven insane?"

"White flames keep the visions and clatter at bay; they burn constantly in the lamps at our outposts and along the roads." Her voice lowered, "I could conjure some if you removed the collar."

"I may be in agony but that does not make me an idiot."

"And just what is it that you plan to do in the meantime? Hide up in the trees all night?"

"There are times when it is appropriate for one to forsake courage, now is one of those times. I'm going to sleep under the moonlight as I'd surely be out of my mind to chance climbing down while the night is this thick."

"How vivid did the visions become to make you this afraid?" L'Via was border line mocking him.

"When hands claw at your feet it ceases to be a vision." That shut her mouth. The elf did not speak anymore after that and they simply sat in silence and listened to the howling echoing in their heads. Eventually Devias felt the elf slip off into a light slumber and he followed soon after, wrapping his arms tightly around the elf's torso to secure her firmly against his chest. He had slept in more dangerous predicaments, he would not fall off the branch; his senses were too keen.

The howls were sending chills down his spine…

* * *

As soon as the first dim rays of daybreak shone across the land they were off once again. The racket hadn't allowed for a restful sleep but now the light of day had chased off the screams and dulled them down to a muted buzzing. Devias awoke to find L'Via already awake in his arms and, surprisingly, very cooperative.

"I'd be a fool to say I wasn't suspicious." He told her as they ate a quick meal still perched atop the trusty branch. She merely shrugged and took a few bites of cheese from his open hand.

"I did try to squirm out of your grasp before you woke up but that only triggered a reflex and your grip became tighter than ever so I gave up."

The answer was believable but considering her behavior the previous day he doubted a tightened grip would be enough to make her give up on an escape attempt. No, something was definitely off...

_She knows something._

Throughout the day's run he had been racking his brain attempting to figure out the answer to that question. There was no way anyone else knew about her capture and he would detect anyone attempting to sneak up on the pair, so what could it possibly be? She knew this territory; did it have something to do with the route he was taking? This last possibility seemed the most likely to him though he didn't have much choice in the matter, this was the only route he could take.

"What lies to the south before the border to the Plaguelands?" he eventually decided to ask as they stopped for a quick breather.

"Let's see, there's the Underlight Mines."

"Anything that makes it particularly note-worthy?"

"Only that it's been overrun by Gnolls and they're a pain in the ass."

Gnolls? That was it? Devias was far from convinced.

"What else?" he demanded.

"Only a heavily watched gate to the Plaguelands."

Well, it was a satisfactory answer; yet as the day grew on he slowly began to realize that he was losing spans of time. It was unnoticeable at first due to the relatively continuous scenery but then Devias noticed the shadows were getting longer in staggered leaps and bounds. This was serious, this place was rapidly destroying his sanity and Devias dared not spend another night listening to the screaming, but he was becoming more and more disoriented; the world was spinning out of his control! The time leaps became more frequent and longer and he could have sworn he heard L'Via laughing at him… _mocking_ him.

"You bitch…"

"A ni ash anu dor lo eburi. Nei talah mush'al fal anoduna ash bandu."

Then it was night, and he was standing before the gate to hell. Three grinning skulls were mounted around the stone gate with rustic spikes hanging from the ceiling and beyond… beyond was a red-brown haze that obscured all vision. _What is this place?_

"Dath su Deatholme."

An explosion occurred inside Devias' head and he crumpled to the ground holding his head in both hands. He nearly screamed in pain as the howling pounded against his skull so hard he felt blood trickle out of his ears. A figure stood before him and it took most of his strength to look up and find L'Via poised, hands still bound behind her back. There was mirth in her expression.

"I have seen things your people wouldn't believe. I have walked through hell in order to carry the title of Blood Knight. I have survived what now plagues your very soul and I will go through it again if I have to." She leapt back as Devias whipped out his karambit and drove it into the dirt where her left foot had been only a moment before. "I HAVE SURVIVED!" she roared at him over the racket in his head. "If you want me you're going to have to come and get me! You're going to have to travel through hell itself and discover whether or not your life is worth it!"

Devias let out a full-fledged scream this time as she turned and bounded off into the mists of Deatholme.

"I'M COMING FOR YOU!"

A skeleton, a horror of a creature with rotting flesh still hanging off its bones, came at him from out of nowhere. Devias roared again and in his rage he tore the creature limb from limb, even going so far as to use his teeth.

"Not now! I never fail! NEVER!"

A zombie appeared next and he easily decapitated the creature, black blood oozing forth from the wound.

"I'll have to walk through hell then? Just try it you Once-Elf. I'll track you to the ends of Azeroth!"

Karambit in hand and howling screaming in his head Devias stormed through the gates of Deatholme.

* * *

Thalassian dialogue translations:

"A ni ash anu dor lo eburi. Nei talah mush'al fal anoduna ash bandu." - "I am not the one to blame. All those secrets are tearing you apart."

"Dath su Deatholme." - "This is Deatholme."


End file.
